They Had Each Other
by BSimagine14
Summary: After Stiles and Scott have their big fight and the sheriff ends up hurt in season 5a, the aftermath and the importance of their friendship. Written before the season 5b premiere but in anticipation for it!


[[[[[Here is my thought on how Stiles and Scott might overcome their fight, you know before the winter premiere tonight (who else is super excited?!). I wrote this a while back but I just now got around to putting it up, let me know what you guys think :) ]]]]]]

 **They Had Each Other**

Hands shaking, why wouldn't his hands stop shaking? He'd taken his Adderall, he shouldn't be shaking so much. His leg shouldn't be bouncing this much. "Damn it." Stiles shifted in the horrible waiting room chair once again. "Screw it." He couldn't sit any longer, Stiles got up to pace the hallway.

But as soon as Stiles got to the hallway he saw the entity of his anger and pain: Scott McCall. "Stiles…" The mopey eyes landed on him and suddenly he was walking towards him, and something inside of Stiles snapped. He couldn't handle this. He couldn't hold it in any longer.

Before Stiles could think or stop himself, he flung himself at the guy he had once called friend, brother. The one who had let him down in a way no one else ever could. "How could you?!" He tackled Scott and threw his fists without thought or strategy. "Where were you? Where the hell were you Scott?!" He's dying! He's all I have left and he's dying!" Stiles kept hitting even though there were voice distantly telling him to stop, even though he knew he couldn't really damage a werewolf. "It's your fault Scott! This is YOUR fault!"

Suddenly Stiles was lifted off of Scott, held back by two male nurses, and Melissa was leaning over a shocked and broken Scott. "I'm sorry." His best friend had never sounded so sad, so lost. "Stiles, I…"

"Don't." Stiles shook his head. "No." He shook off the men holding him. "Sorry isn't going to cut it this time Scott. You were supposed to trust me, listen to me. But you chose Theo over me and you got what you deserved, what I predicted. Now, if my dad dies because of your _stupid_ decisions Scott…" Stiles wiped a bent arm over his face, refusing to cry now. "I don't think I could ever forgive that." And with that Stiles left to pace another hallway.

It had been an hour since a doctor came by and told Stiles his dad was stable but had a long road ahead of him, whatever that means. Now Stiles sat in a chair by his dad's bed listening to all the machines and watching his chest rise and fall, giving him eerie memories of his mom.

There was a soft knock on the door and Melissa walks in with an unreadable face. "He's made it through the riskiest part, now he just had to keep breathing, wake up." She went to the other side of the bed and laid a hand on the Sheriff. "He's strong though. He'll come through for you if anything else. You know how Stilinski's can be." She smiled. "They can be strong but also stubborn, so annoyingly stubborn. I think it's hard for the Stilinski's to see shades of gray sometimes, they like black and white."

"If you want to give me a lecture could you not? Or at least hold off until my dad is better?" Stiles kept his eyes on the sheriff's chest, the rise and fall. "Just yell at me for hitting your son and go."

Melissa shook her head. "Like I said, stubborn." She walked over to lay a hand on Stiles' shoulder. "Scott isn't my only son." She leaned over and kissed the top of Stiles' head. "I hope you two are able to work though this Stiles, it breaks my heart to see you two fighting. The world just isn't right without Scott and Stiles out there causing mischief."

"The world hasn't been right for a while." He didn't want to be rude to Melissa but there was still so much hurt and rage buzzing under his skin. "I don't think it will ever be the same again."

"Nothing is ever the same." Melissa gave the teen's shoulder a squeeze. "All of you kids have been forced to grow up so much these past few years, had to do and see things no one should. It's easy to forget you're all just kids, but you are. And kids still have a lot to learn." She gave his shoulder one more squeeze before leaving.

Around midnight the nurses kicked Stiles out of his dad's room, telling him to go home to get cleaned up, eat, and get some rest. He felt like a zombie riding home, making dinner for two out of habit, and taking a too hot shower until the water turned cold. He was trying to force himself to sleep went someone knocked on the door. He considered ignoring it, the only person that mattered was lying in a hospital bed, but the knocking was persistent.

When Stiles finally stumbled down the stairs he was shocked to see Deaton standing on his doorstep. "Young Stilinski, may I please come in?"

"I'm not helping werewolves anymore."

Deaton looked down momentarily before looking back at Stiles, a new determination in his voice. "Stiles, I understand you're hurt, but I have some things you need to hear. Now, may I please come in." There wasn't a question to his voice but a command.

Poor Stiles was too exhausted to argue and just stepped aside to let the vet in. "What has Scott done now?"

"He isn't healing." The vet looked around the living room. "He blames himself for everything: losing his pack, all that are hurt." Deaton noticed a framed picture of Scott and Stiles in their lacrosse jerseys across the room and began to walk towards it.

Stiles scoffed. "Good, it's his fault. Some true alpha he turned out to be." He rubbed at his tired eyes.

"Stiles, what happened wasn't Scott's fault. Yes, he's a true alpha but he is still young. So are you." Deaton picked up the picture and studied it with his back to Stiles.

"You don't understand, no one does." Stiles sank down onto the couch. "When my mom forgot my name, when teachers were as bad as the bullies, when my dad had to work a late shift, or when there was some new bad guy in Beacon Hills, I could always count on Scott. The only constant in my life was Scott. Hell, he believed and trusted me when even my own father wouldn't. It was supposed to be me and Scott, always the two of us." Stiles ran a hand over his face. "He ruined that."

Deaton sat next to Stiles. "No one is perfect, especially not teenagers with high expectations." Deaton shifted to face the teen. "Do you remember when I had you put the line of mountain ash around the club and told you how important it was to believe? How you were the spark?"

A laugh slipped out of Stiles, that memory seemed so long ago. "Yeah, fat lot of good it did."

The older man smiled. "Do you understand the importance of it?"

"God, you're not going to tell me I'm magical or something like that, are you Deaton?" Stiles rolled his eyes and laughed.

The vet laughed with him. "No Stiles, no magic, but you and your ability to believe is important. It may even be more important than Scott's pure heart and red eyes. You see, Stiles, Scott wouldn't be the true alpha he is now if it hadn't been for you. I'm not just speaking of how you got him in the woods that night, this isn't about guilt." The vet looked down at the picture in his hands. "You've always believed in him. You stayed by his side no matter what. Even when he rejected the truth of being a werewolf or tried to kill you. Even when it seemed like there was no hope between the Darrach and the alphas, you believed there was because you believed in him. You have always believed. What is it you always talk about, a Plan B?"

"Are you trying to remind me of the times Scott didn't listen? Because I remember them just fine."

Deaton smiled softly. "No Stiles, my job is to restore balance. I'm reminding you of what your friendship has overcome, of the times you've stayed by his side when others would run." He ran a hand over the picture. "Scott needs you and you need him. You anchor each other, balance each other. You're his reality and he's you're hope. I think you could use some hope right about now."

"I could use my dad." Stiles answered bitterly. "If he doesn't make it…"

"If he doesn't make it, you will really need Scott. He will be the only family you have left." Deaton put the picture into Stiles' hands. "Brothers born outside of blood are important, they share an even stronger bond because it was chosen. Don't stop believing now." Deaton rose from the couch and went towards the door.

Stiles' teary voice made the vet stop as he reached for the doorknob. "Where is the idiot now?"

Trying not to smile Deaton opened the door. "I don't know. He disappeared after you attacked him. Melisa had been searching all night, worried about his open wound."

Stiles scoffed. "Open wound." But he let Deaton leave as he stared at the picture of Scott and himself. He wasn't sure how much later, but Stiles found himself on his old bicycle, wishing he had his jeep, pulling up to the woods and the cliff that over-looked the town. And there was Scott, just as he suspected. "God, you're predictable." He sat down next to the hurting alpha.

Scott kept his knees pulled up, his arms hugging them to his non-healing chest. "I can't take anymore hitting or yelling Stiles." There were actual bruises left from Stiles' attack.

Picking at a tick on the ground Stiles shook his head. "I didn't come find you to yell at you. I'm not sorry for yelling at you and I'm still mad, god I'm mad, but I'm tired of yelling. I'm tired of fighting. I just want to solve the problem with furry best friend like we used to."

In shock Scott looked over at him. "What?"

"I've lost a lot, we've lost a lot. I don't think we can afford to lose each other." He looked up at Scott. "So stop blaming yourself and let your werewolf healing do its thing. You'll need your strength. _We_ will need your strength."

Scott shook his head. "What if I mess up again? I let everyone down."

Stiles reached over and thumped Scott on the head. "I said stop blaming yourself, that's my job." He smiled and Scott gave the faintest smile back. "You're still human, we've gone over this, remember? We make mistakes, just learn from them. And you know, I've said it before but I'll say it again: I'm always right and you should listen to whatever I have to say, and never disagree ever for the sake of your wolvlihood." He couldn't help the genuine smile that took over his face.

Scott laughed, actually laughed. "You're right, definitely right."

"Exactly, and I say you heal and stop doubting yourself so we can win the pack back and take down all the big bads in town. Sound good?" Stiles nudged Scott with his shoulder.

"Sounds great." Scott smiled, already feeling himself start to really heal. "But I think we might need some reinforcements. I don't think we can do this on our own. We're just kids."

Stiles nodded in agreement. "Yean, you're right. We need help. We should have gotten help sooner."

"Glad you agree. I already called Argent."

Stiles laughed. "Of course you did. I'm beginning to wonder about your attachment to him. I mean, it went from him threatening you to you calling him every time we're in trouble. Did you date his daughter, or him?" They laughed a little. "I called someone too." He looked over to see Scott's questioning face. "Derek. It's about time he came back to Beacon Hills."

Scott nodded. "It will be just like old times." His smile faded. "But not. Things are never going to be the same again, are they?" He looked out over the town.

Stiles shook his head, thinking of Melissa's comment. "No, but when has it ever been? Mexico changed things, the Darrach and alphas changed our dynamics, let's not forget the Nogitsune I mean I"ll never be the same after that, the kanima and Gerard, hell just you being bitten ensured things would never be the same, and what about life before that? What about your asthma, our parents' crazy work schedules, your dad leaving, or my mom…" He took a breath before pulling out a picture from his pocket, the one Deaton had taken an interest in. "We've never had a constant life Scott, that's why our friendship is so important. We have to hold onto what we can depend on." He passed the picture to Scott. "We have to trust each other."

Taking the picture, Scott looked at the smiling boys. "I'm really sorry I didn't believe you Stiles. I'll never forgive myself for that even if you eventually do."

"That's okay Scott. I still believe in you, buddy. It's apparently my job."

Even if things weren't perfect (but were they ever?) and they still had a lot to work out, at least they had each other and that's what really counts.

/Thanks for reading, please review, and have a great day!


End file.
